Friday, February 13, 2015

2-13-15 Writing Warm-up
6:38 AM

2-13-15 Writing Warm-up

2-13-15 Writing Warm-up
Artwork © Youlakou Saad, All Rights Reserved -
Story and Characters © Corey Blankenship, All Rights Reserved 
Brought to you by Four Fools Press: “Crazy Good Stories”

I would not believe the tale I’m about to tell you had I not played a part. Yet, it is as true as the sky is blue--perhaps more true. I will reveal the matter of the Lady in the secret forest to those willing to listen.

I first saw her on a rather mundane occasion. I had purchased an old house from a family friend. This high manor from an earlier era had lain dormant for over a decade. The vacant plantation home on lonely hill possessed a pleasant charm. I knew a patient hand could bring back her forgotten glory, and under such intentions I had bought the land.

As I surveyed the rooms, I came upon the master bedroom. Within its papered and paneled interior, I came across a mason jar on its side. A curious liquid of smoky green glowed inside with its own light. Strands of oil had settled in various places within the scope of the fluid. I crouched near to see the curiosity and behold! The oils were trees, adorned with leaves, and a forest floor! I gazed on, stricken by the intricate vision contained in the little glass.

Then I saw her.

Hidden on the farthest edge of the vessel she stood. Her ruffled dress flowed over pleasant hips, smoothing as it draped fair shoulders. Brunette locks cascaded as a soft waterfall, dividing about a porcelain face. Her lovely features contained a knowing air that was both haunting and beckoning. I dropped to all fours and strained my gaze to take in any other details and to better see her. Lo, even as I called dumbly through the glass, she let out a silent cry and ran off into the woods.

I cursed my folly. How like a giant I must have looked to the pixie’s daughter! Yet, it was not my ogre gaze which had started the poor maiden. A horrible, gnarled shadow limped into view. I could not see its face (thank heaven!), but a scaly, horned beast lurched into view. It bent and snuffled, and a darkness gnawed at the image wherever its foul presence fell. It crept down the trail, hunting the lovely lady in her secret wood.

I had to do something, and something I certainly did.

A most terrible, foolish something.

I opened the jar.

Out rushed a torrent, far larger than the little canister. The smoky jade light flooded and pooled around me, sucking me down into the wood. Oak and plane hedged my vision, leaving only the trodden trail available to me. The heavens bent in a strange arch overhead, glistening upon the western sill. The clouds bore an oddly regular fractal pattern amid coal patches. Then I realized the terrible truth.

The jar had not come out. I had come in.

Into the Lady’s secret wood.

A soul-tearing shriek followed this revelation.

I wasn’t too far behind the Lady.

Nor was the monster.

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